Jedi Apprentice
by PTGreat
Summary: For the prompt: padawan!obi and knight!anakin
1. Chapter 1

Crouched low with the younglings, Obi-Wan held a finger to his lips as the council room door hissed open. They nodded at him solemnly, their fear acrid in the Force like the smoke rising from the Temple but contained. He glanced around Master Yoda's chair—oh!—and stood. The younglings stared at him, little mouths agape.

"Master!" Obi-Wan strode towards him, "I didn't sense you. How did you get through?"

Relief flooded him. He had to force himself not to throw himself at him. So many jedi were dead, dying. But Anakin was still here. The younglings peered out, some of their tension dissipating, and inched into view. Anakin studied his padawan first then looked at the younglings. Obi-Wan cocked his head. Anakin's face was shadowed by his hood and even in front of him, he still had a hard time feeling him. Their bond was almost entirely closed off. Anakin thumbed on his lightsaber, blue light humming through the dark.

"Master?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Before Order 66, this 'verse is a lot cuter

* * *

"Transport from Coruscant just landed, General," Echo announced.

Anakin frowned and glanced at Ahsoka, who shrugged. He tamped down on the glee that Padme might have, for some hopeless diplomatic reason, been sent to Stewjon's cold misty forests. However, it wasn't his beautiful wife that exited the modest ship but a young boy, his hair short and a small bead-less braid tucked behind his ear.

"Oh," Ahsoka said, recognizing the new arrival.

He stopped in front of them, hands tucked into the sleeves of his brown robe, and bowed. Anakin supposed he was vaguely familiar but he didn't spend much time with the Temple younglings.

"I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi. I've been assigned as Master Skywalker's padawan."

A wave of déjà vu washed over him. There must have been some mistake. Anakin stared at the petite boy. Was he actually old enough to be out of the crèche? The youngling, cheeks too pink, coughed wetly into his sleeve. Great. The council sent him a sick underage padawan.

"There's been no mistake, Master Skywalker," he said, as if reading Anakin's thoughts, or maybe his expression was just that obvious.

"Except I already have a padawan," Anakin frowned.

Obi-Wan stuck his nose in the air like he'd caught a whiff of something unpleasant in Anakin's direction.

"I can holo Master Yoda if you don't believe me."

Anakin grimaced. Ahsoka snickered. The vague familiarity solidified as a tiny wide-eyed youngling trailing Yoda through the Temple hallways. A sick underage council's pet of a padawan. Well, wouldn't this be fun?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: An almost direct continuation of the first chapter.

* * *

Anakin tightened his arm around Obi-Wan as he stirred, holding him securely on his lap, his free hand—his mechanical hand—busy with his starfighter's controls. His padawan shivered and pressed against his chest, hands seeking Anakin's cloak to pull more tightly around them both. Anakin smirked and rubbed his cheek over his hair. Eyelashes fluttered against his throat.

"Master?"

He kissed the top of the boy's head.

"Are," Obi-Wan's words came out slow and groggy, "are we in hyperspace?"

"Yeah. On our way to Mustafar."

"What's on—" Obi-Wan went tense and sat forward suddenly. "The Temple! What's happened to the Temple?"

Anakin sighed. His poor foolish padawan.

"We were—and then you…Master. What did you do?" Obi-Wan shuddered.

"I've done what is necessary. The Order was not what you thought it was."

"Was?" Obi-Wan's voice broke. "I don't understand."

"I know you don't, but you will."

Obi-Wan shook and leaned away, tried to slip off his lap. Anakin dragged him back, annoyed but unsurprised. The Jedi had had him for so long. Obi-Wan didn't know life outside the Order. Anakin would teach him.

"Go back to sleep, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan shoved with both hands on his chest. With a huff, Anakin switched arms, his flesh one taking over the piloting the mechanical encircling Obi-Wan in its durasteel grip.

"Go. To. Sleep," Anakin pressed hard against his mind.

Obi-Wan flailed for a moment, unprepared to defend himself against their training bond, then went limp, head lolling back. Anakin shifted him back into a more comfortable position. Eventually he'd probably learn how to better resist him, how to slip out from under the massive press of Anakin's power. His padawan was nothing if not adaptable, thriving in the subtleties and nuances. But he was also immensely trainable and Anakin's fantasies already danced darkly around an Empire ruled by three. Him. His queen. And his apprentice.


End file.
